Fault of the Deceiver
by Chatterbox Angel
Summary: Kira is feeling extremely guilty over the fact it's her fault Stiles is possessed. The Nogitsune is wreaking havoc over Beacon Hills. She's feeling guilty about that too. Kira has a feeling that if they manage to save Stiles, she will no longer be the only one feeling guilty about this stuff.


Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters.

A/N: This fanfic is only canon compliant through the eighteen episode of the third season.

When she first started attending Beacon Hills High School, Kira had heard a great deal of rumors about Stiles Stillinski, sheriff's kid and Scott's best friend. There were lots of stories floating around, but she ignored all of them because it was hard enough to make friends when you were the new kid without being known as a gossip. That, and rumors tended to be false, and spreading them was mean. So, yeah, if you asked her, she couldn't really recall any of the rumors except for one, the one about a really hot, older, leather-wearing, former murder suspect boyfriend. And now, she was wondering whether she should have paid more attention to those rumors.

She didn't really know anyone is Scott's circle of friends, had only spent a small amount of time with them, but Stiles had seemed nice. And this older man asking to tell her all she knew about kitsunes, Derek Hale the werewolf, seemed awfully worried about Stiles. So, she was helping him in however she could, following along wherever he wanted to take her. Because she felt like she had to help. Unfortunately, Kira was right about that. She didn't like where the investigations led, and it turned out that it was partially (mostly?) her fault that Stiles was now possessed by the Nogitsune.

Stiles, who was Scott's best friend and brother. Stiles, who had a boyfriend who was obviously very worried for the teen and cared a great deal about him. Stiles, who had helped her break into the sheriff's station to delete those photos off her phone when all he had to go on was a stupid excuse and Scott's word. Stiles, who had put his own neck on the line to give them just the few moments extra needed to escape from the office. Stiles, who had come with Scott to help save her from a serial kill.

And now, because of her, Stiles really wasn't Stiles anymore. When she finally arrived at the hospital with Derek, Kira wasn't brave enough to go inside and face the others. Derek's quite understanding just made everything worse; she could feel the hurt and pain he was trying to hide.

As she stood outside waiting, a giant electric cable that had been suddenly fell straight toward her, crackling dangerously all the while. Full of guilt about what had happened to Stiles and feeling safe in the knowledge that she'd already survived worse, Kira rushed forward and grabbed at the cable, determined to capture all that energy in the palms of her hands before it could hurt anyone else. She did it. Unfortunately, the few lights left in the hospital fizzled out as well.

After that, Kira didn't have to wait long before Scott and Derek had come running out of the hospital, heads whipping around frantically. Apparently, Stiles (the Nogitsune?) had escaped, but the scent was disturbed. They wouldn't be able to find him right away, and the fact that they knew they'd see him again soon enough was little to no comfort. Because the Nogitsune thrived on chaos and destruction, it would be back.

The weeks that followed were honestly the longest, worst weeks of her life. Initally, Kira had asked the same question as everyone else, 'why possess Stiles?'. It didn't take long for them to realize that the answer was far more complicated than anyone else thought. Scott and his friends wondered whether it was to appear unassuming since no one really expected someone like Stiles to be dangerous. Kira's mother had thought it was to make her hesitate in hunting it down, make her feel guilt over killing someone so young and innocent. Kira just thought it was opportunity. Stiles was one of three who had opened the door into their minds, and he had been the most vulnerable at the powerplant. Werewolf. Kitsune. Human. Not a hard decision, right?

None of these reasons were necessarily wrong. More like, they were several parts of the whole, but the biggest reason the Nogitsune chose Stiles was because of his brain. Stiles was far more resourceful than anyone had ever given him credit for until they were fighting against him, and make no mistake, they were fighting against him. Stiles was doing everything he could to avoid them, to keep them away, to keep them safe from the Nogitsune, but it didn't always work. Every werewolf they knew had suffered several broken bones courtesy of the Nogitsune. Lydia had almost been strangled…again. Kira had been stabbed, and Allison had been electrocuted more than once. That's what happened when they tried to stop the Nogitsune without hurting Stiles.

The worst part about fighting the Nogitsune was also fighting Stiles, and that didn't mean just his physical body. Kira didn't know Stiles well, but apparently, a lot of the Nogitsune's plans and actions had Stiles written all over them. The demon wasn't just using Stiles's knowledge; it was using the very unique way in which his mind worked to always stay one step ahead of them.

By the time those long, long weeks of what had basically become a supernatural war came to an end, the only silver lining to the whole damn situation was that Stiles was still fighting. On more than one occasion, the Nogitsune had been in the perfect position to kill someone Stiles cared about, but it never did. Kira was glad for Stiles in that. If…no when they saved him, she didn't want that on his conscience too. Thanks to the Nogitsune, Stiles already had plenty of lives to answer for. Those deaths were in no way Stiles's fault, but she knew about guilt. No matter how often Scott said he didn't blame her, Kira couldn't stop the guilt from coursing through her every time she saw Stiles, heard his name, or thought about him and his victims.

Finally, after weeks of just missing the Nogitsune or being separated from the others and trapped by it, they had the upper-hand. Everyone was there: the twins, Scott, Isaac, Derek, Lydia, the Argents, her mother and the weird firefly Oni. They had the Nogitsune surrounded, forced to lie face up on the ground, and tied down tight - each werewolf had a supernaturally tight grip on one of the ropes holding Stiles's body in place, but the once allies had reached a stalemate. Chris Argent, her mom (and by extension, the Oni), and at least one of the twins wanted to just kill Stiles and be done with it. Lydia, Scott, and Derek were very vocally protesting this. Derek was actually wolfed out and snarling viciously, his body very clearly placed between Stiles and Chris Argent's gun. Everyone else wasn't really sure what they should do.

The Nogitsune remained quite through it all, as though the arguing, the growling, and the posturing amused it. Kira thought they would all remain there for hours without reaching a consensus until Lydia started to scream. Not her 'you're wrong, so shut up and listen to me' scream but her 'I'm a banshee and someone is about to die' scream.

While everyone else was distracted by the shrill scream, Kira felt something possess her to look another way, and she saw the Oni advancing on Stiles. Her mom had obviously made up her mind and already ordered the kill, and Kira knew that there was only one thing that could possibly stop the Oni now. Her mother had told her weeks ago that the Oni had only one order of higher importance than killing the Nogitsune, and that order was to keep Kira safe. Without a moment's hesitation, she threw herself on top of Stiles's body where it lay on the ground. She just couldn't let him die when the whole thing was all her fault.

Seconds after she landed on top of him, lightning came bursting forth from her body. Kira wasn't controlling it consciously, but it wasn't long before every Oni was being shocked and sizzled into poofs of disappearing black smoke. But this time, they weren't coming back, and as soon as they were all gone, the Nogitsune started to laugh maniacally.

"Kira Yukimura!" her mom's voice was livid but also scared, like she was suddenly at a loss of what to do. "What do you think you're doing?"

"She's trying to do the impossible and save this stupid teenage boy," the Nogitsune continued its manic laughter. "Why? What's wrong? Is that all you've got?"

"No, it's not!" Kira watched as Stiles's body froze beneath her, like it was shocked. Those wide amber eyes became impossible huge. For the first time in weeks, Kira knew for sure that the words coming from Stiles's lips belonged to the teen himself and not the Nogitsune.

"Stay where you are," she quickly shouted at everyone around her. She had felt them start to move closer, and she wasn't going to let anyone near enough to mess this up. "Leave it. Stiles is fighting it. He's fighting it!"

There were murmurs of agreement and protest and more than one demand that she move out of the way. But Kira ignored all of that and watched the struggle behind Stiles's eyes, quietly urging him on. He had to win. Somewhere, on the very edge of her conscious focus, Kira was distantly aware that Lydia was still screaming.

"_No it's not?" the Nogitsune sneered at Stiles, walking around him in that maddening circle of his. "You think you have some fight left in you? You think you can beat me Stiles?"_

"_I know I can," Stiels growled. "The only reason you ever got control is because I doubted myself. Because I gave up to keep my friends safe from you."_

"_Is that right Stiles?" the Nogitsune laughed derisively, but Stiles wasn't fooled; the steely determined expression did not leave his face._

"_It's why you could never use my mom," Stiles said. "You couldn't make her believe that you were stronger than her. It was easy to control the Yakuza because he was already evil. It was easier to manipulate me because I was susceptible after the Nemeton, and you got a power boost from Kira. But it won't work on me anymore. 'Everyone has it, but no one can lose it.' It's your will to fight. You can be manipulated into giving it up, but it can't be taken away. There are many possible answers to that riddle, but this is the one most important to you."_

"_Oh really?" the Nogitsune asked. "And how did you come to this conclusion Stiles?"_

"_Because you might be a sadistic bastard who gets off on manipulating people," Stiles replied. "But there's usually a reason that sadistic bastards manipulate their victims, and I forgot that. I forgot to think. I forgot that giving up fighting didn't mean I had to give up thinking, until Kira, a girl who barely knows me, fought for me. If a girl who barely knows me thinks I'm worth fighting for, maybe I started thinking it too. Maybe I started thinking fighting to defend my friends was better than rolling over and hoping you didn't hurt them. Maybe I was right."_

"_Maybe you were Stiles," the Nogitsune replied, smirking now, like he was in control even though Stiles now knew the truth. "But, you know, Stiles, your mother died fighting me. What was it? Frontal temporal dementia?_

"_It was," Stiles commented, staring straight into the Nogitsune's stolen amber-colored eyes. "I know." The Nogitsune stared back for what felt like hours until it's expressions suddenly morphed into a glare of pure hatred._

"_Fine," the Nogitsune shot back. "Have your little so-called victory. Besides, there's already a much better host available. She's stronger, and I already know for a fact that her mind is easily manipulated. Be sure to tell you mom I said hi. Good-bye Stiles."_

Without warning, black smoke started pouring out from Stiles's body and headed straight for Lydia.

"Oh no you don't!" Kira's mom snarled and then started chanting in a Japanese dialect so ancient that not even Kira understood it. The black smoke poured and poured from Stiles's body, but it was all caught up in this bright, white mist that had been summoned by her mom's chanting. For several minutes, everyone watched in tense silence (except for Lydia, she was still screaming) until Kira's mom's voice was hoarse from use, and both the black smoke and white mist just disappeared into nothingness.

"Why didn't you do that before?" she heard someone, maybe Isaac, ask a little incredulously.

"It doesn't work when the Nogitsune is protected by the shell of its host," her mother said so matter-of-factly and unapologetically that Kira almost laughed. Her mom was just so…her mom. But it was finally over now. Stiles was free. She had helped save him, and Kira finally allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief as she watched Stiles eyes close. Granted, unconsciousness wasn't really the best sign of a good state of health, but she he was still breathing. That was the important bit, that he was still alive. Yeah, that was the important bit.

But wait…why was Lydia still screaming?

Quite suddenly, she found herself being pushed aside, and she saw Derek ripping the ropes off his boyfriend's wrists, ankles, and everywhere else. He was shouting at Scott to get his ass over here and bite his best friend before he died.

"What's wrong with you Derek?" Scott said but walked over and dropped down next to him nonetheless. "I know he's dying, but we can at least wait until he's conscious and let him make his own decision."

"We don't have that kind of time," Derek roared furiously. "Even if it seems human and normal, this is a supernatural disease. With the Nogitsune inside of him, Stiles might have had weeks or even months. But now that it's gone, he has minutes at most!"

"WHAT?!" Scott shouted in alarm, his face looking absolutely horrified. "How do you know?"

"Because Lydia's still screaming," Derek growled through gritted teeth.

"He never wanted the bite," Scott said, still hesitating. "What if he hates me for it?"

"Then, at least he'll be alive to hate you," Derek's growl sounded more like pleading to Kira now, not that she blamed him. Rather, she could empathize quite well. Kira had been similarly desperate and anxious several times these past weeks, watching Scott almost get ripped apart and thrown around like a rag doll by the Nogitsune.

Scott seemed to hesitate just a moment more, but finally, he steeled himself, elongated his fangs, and bit down deep into Stiles's right arm.

Stiles wasn't sure what he expected to wake up to…well actually, he hadn't expected to wake up at all. But waking up to the familiar feel of his own bed sheets, to the sight of his own ceiling, and to the sound of the voices of the people he cared about most was probably the best thing he could have imagined. The smell of his bedroom was off though, less teenage boy and more dust, but he supposed that made sense since he hadn't actually been in his own room for almost two months. Blinking blearily as he sat up, Stiles looked around the room and was surprised to find himself alone.

That didn't make any sense; he could have sworn he heard Scott and the sheriff basically grilling Derek about the Nogitsune. Really? Weren't they past blaming everything on the sourwolf? And seriously, why could he hear them but not see them? Oh shit! Was this another dream? Shaking, he forced himself to look at his hands and breathed a giant sigh of relief when he counted only ten.

And hey, there was Kira's voice confirming that the Nogitsune always brought death upon its own host, one way or another. If Derek hadn't convinced Scott to bite him, Stiles would definitely be dead. Oh, well that explained the voices sounding so close. He was a werewolf now. Huh? Well, Stiles wasn't going to lie to himself; this was never what he wanted, especially after Peter had been the first one to offer the bite. But between life as a werewolf and death, Stiles definitely chose being a werewolf. He couldn't leave his dad alone in the world. That had been one his biggest fears while being possessed, leaving his dad without any more family. His dad had barely survived the death of his wife; Stiles knew that if he died, his dad would soon follow.

Of course, Stiles would have preferred to have been able to make the decision to become a werewolf himself, but he wasn't going to be angry at Scott or Derek for this. He was going to be grateful…eventually.

Right now, he was just grateful to be alive and glad that everyone he cared for had survived his stupidity. Stiles just really wished he'd figured out the riddle before killing nine people and injuring dozens more. Mike Dorva – the new mechanic in town, Sarah Lomin – housewife and mother of two, Cathy Hawn – seventh grade science teacher, Daniel Lords – the guy who owned the diner on the south side of town, Valerie Lloyd – a girl his age who had moved to town shortly after the Hale fire, Oscar Tanner – the captain of the baseball team, Nicholi Palmer – the librarian who had just gotten married last year, Greg Ellison – the dude who had been attending the nearby community college for ten years, and Amber Molon – the barista who used to work in the coffee shop near the hospital: they were all dead because of him. Because he hadn't been strong enough to fight from the beginning. It was all his fault.

Stiles wasn't able to stop the strangled sob from escaping his throat then, and with that, the floodgates had opened. Hideous sounds poured from his throat as tears flowed from his eyes. Mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, brothers, and sisters - all dead because of him.

Suddenly, his room was overflowing with people. Scott and his father grabbed him, pulled him right off the bed, hugged the living daylights out of him, and told him how glad they were he was okay. Kira, Melissa, Lydia, Allison and Isaac were close by too, staring at him with unveiled relief. Mrs. Yukimura stood in the doorway glaring at him, like she didn't trust him to be near her daughter and everything was his own fault. Stiles didn't deny that. And Derek just stood in the corner, staring at him with a carefully blank, neutral expression. Stiles stared back, through his tears and sobs, because Derek's blank neutrality was far easier to deal with than Mrs. Yukimura's blame and everyone else's relief.

When his cries had finally quieted down and Stiles felt like he could actually breath again, Kira surprised him by clearing her throat - quietly, tentatively, to get everyone's attention and said, "Um, maybe we should all leave now. Give Stiles and Derek some time alone?"

"Why?" Scott asked incredulously, staring at Kira like she'd grown a second head.

"Because they're together," Kira answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You begged both our moms for alone time with me after we knew the bite had taken. Isaac and Allison went off on their own for a while, too. Shouldn't Derek and Stiles get the same chance?"

The reaction that followed Kira's little revelation would've been downright hilarious in any other situation. Mrs. Yukimura didn't do or say anything, but Scott sputtered and looked at Stiles with an expression exactly like one you'd expect from a kicked puppy. Derek's neutral expression turned down with a frown and silent, judge-y, annoyed eyebrows. Lydia rolled her eyes, Allison just giggled, and Isaac was muttering something along the lines of, "Well, it's about time."

Stiles wasn't sure what to think about that, but he'd examine it later. Because his father had a dangerously angry expression on his face and looked like he was searching for the nearest gun all the while roaring, "WHAAAAAAT?!"

"Joe!" Melissa's voice rang out, and she put her hand on his arm. "Calm down. Now is not the time to worry about this."

"He doesn't actually need to worry about it," Stiles said, his voice still a little raspy from the shouting and the sobbing. "I'm not going out with Derek."

"Really?" Kira asked, and her voice was so shocked that his dad, and everyone else, actually seemed to calm down. "But I thought…the way he acted…everyone always said…really? You guys aren't going out?"

"Uh, no," Stiles commented, feeling a lot embarrassed for some reason he didn't understand. "But, I would like to talk to Derek alone for a bit, if that's okay. I mean, I know you guys will be able to hear me downstairs, but I'd at least like the illusion of privacy."

"Is something wrong?" his dad asked, looking panic-stricken. "Do you feel…off somehow? Like something went wrong…you want to know if… if Derek knows something?"

"No, Dad, I'm fine," Stiles said, wincing as he heard the lie in his own heartbeat. "It's nothing like that. Just…please?"

"Okay," the sheriff said reluctantly as he very slowly started herding everyone out of the room. "We'll be downstairs. Call if you need anything."

"Thanks," Stiles said. And then, even though he didn't feel like he deserved to, but because he hadn't had the chance to say it in far too long, he whispered, "I love you, Dad."

His heart soared with relief when he heard back, "I love you too, Stiles."

When the door had shut, Stiles pulled Derek with him, and they sat on the bed facing each other. Well, sort of. Stiles had closed his eyes because he was too afraid to look at Derek's face. He had wanted everyone else out the door because he was afraid to have them in the room when he got the answer he already knew he would be getting. Taking in a wavering breath, Stiles tentatively reached out and shuddered in relief when Derek silently intertwined their hands in support. They sat in pure silence for several minutes; the people downstairs didn't say anything either, probably not wanting to miss what was said up here.

"Stiles." Surprisingly, Derek was the one to break the silence. "What is it?"

"My eyes," Stiles whispered, so quiet. He didn't even want himself to hear the words he spoke. "I need to know." He felt Derek shift closer, keeping their hands together. The older werewolf also grasped the back of his neck and rubbed his fingers in comforting circles.

"Open them," Derek urged gently. So, Stiles did, focusing on keeping all but that part of the transformation at bay. He knew about control…god, did he know about control. The damn Nogitsune had taken all his control away, and then, it had forced all back upon him. The wolf rising up inside him was nothing compared to that. That was just a new part of him, not a demon completely in control. Tears were streaming down his face as he thought about his dad and Scott and his mom, the things that were most important to his human self…his anchors. They made him human, and his human self was full of guilt and self-loathing.

"They're beautiful," Derek said softly, staring straight into Stiles's eyes. The teen listened carefully to Derek's heartbeat; there was no tick for a lie.

"I know they're blue," his own voice sounded so wrecked.

"They're still beautiful," Derek told him.

"No they're not!' Stiles screamed. "They're blue because I killed nine people, Derek. Nine people. With lives and families and friends and hopes and dreams!"

"The Nogitsune did that," Derek argued back. "Not you Stiles. It's not your fault."

"I could've stopped him," Stiles forced himself to confess. He needed to get it out there. He needed them to know. He needed them to see. But he couldn't keep his eyes on Derek; he looked away. "I always could've stopped him. All I had to do was fight, but I didn't. I was afraid and too stupid to figure it out. It's all my fault."

"Stiles," Derek growled, separating their hands. Wow, that didn't make Stiles's heart sink straight to the ground. It didn't. And Derek's hand of his face, forcing him to lock gazes with the older werewolf – that totally didn't have his stomach whooshing it right back up. "Was Kate Argent my fault?"

"Of course not!" Stiles denied it vehemently. "Never!"

"Because I could've stopped that," Derek replied in a whisper. He was doing some confessing of his own. He didn't know how much Stiles knew, but he knew that Stiles knew something. "Because I was too in love, too young to figure out she was just using me. She only knew everyone would be in the house at that time because I told her. Shouldn't I have learned my lesson about trust with Paige's death?"

"What? Derek, no," Stiles said, his tears now more for Derek's guilt than his own. "That wasn't your fault. None of that was your fault."

"And anything the Nogitsune did wasn't yours," Derek replied. "You were manipulated by something evil, and that was beyond your control. This is not your fault."

"I wish I could believe that," Stiles admitted. "I wish I could believe it wasn't my fault."

"I know," Derek said, finally pulling him into a hug. "I know."

"So, killer blue eyes are beautiful, huh?" Stiles asked. "Where'd you get that from?"

"My mom," Derek answered.

"Well, who are we to argue with your mother and Alpha?" Stiles quipped, earning a light chuckle from them both. Downstairs, he heard quiet murmuring and several sighs, but he didn't want to go down yet. He didn't want to face them yet. He just wanted to stay where he was, in Derek's arms. So, that's what he did. He snuggled closer and eventually fell back to sleep.

The following months were hard. Stiles still woke up screaming from nightmares almost every night, and going to school was torture. Every single person in that school knew someone he had either hurt or killed, but no one knew he was the one to do it. The Nogitsune had been very careful not to get caught on camera or be seen by someone not in the know about the supernatural. So, everyone at school thought Stiles had been another victim. Everyone thought he'd just been kidnapped by the latest psychopath to wreak havoc on Beacon Hills. Every time someone came up to him and offered support or said they were glad he got out okay just made him feel worse.

During school, he spent most of his time with Kira and Scott. Scott was his best friend and brother, and in Kira, he had found a kindred spirit. They both felt extreme guilt over what had happened with the Nogitsune, and they sort of bonded over working through it together. In fact, along with Derek, he and Kira attended each and every one of the nine funerals for the Nogitsune's victims. She became like a sort of spiritual sister to him. Of course, Lydia, Allison, and Isaac all tried to be supportive in their own ways, but they just didn't understand like Kira. Neither did Scott, but he was silently supportive instead of constantly telling Stiles it wasn't his fault. Unlike the other three, Scott seemed to understand that, for once, what Stiles needed was silence.

Outside of school, he spent lots of time with his dad and, surprisingly, Derek. Of everyone, Derek was the one who helped him work past the guilt the most. The demons that haunted Derek were so similar to his own that it seemed the older werewolf always knew exactly what to say or not say and do or not do. Just being around Derek made him feel lighter and happier. The guilt was never very far away, but it was just so much more manageable about the elder werewolf, and it didn't take long for Stiles to figure out why. But he remained silent on the matter, didn't tell anyone about these new feelings for months. He didn't even tell Scott, because he wasn't ready yet. He still felt too broken to even think about being in a relationship, especially when he knew Derek sometimes felt just as broken.

Four months. That's how long it was before Stiles really started to feel like himself again. How long it was before he felt like he might be emotionally ready for a relationship. Of course, by now, Stiles was pretty much head over heels in love with Derek, and he had no clue if the older werewolf had any sort of romantic interest in him. However, they were close enough that Stiles didn't feel as though he would be risking their friendship by telling him. So, one Friday night when his dad was on the late shift, Stiles invited Derek over to have a talk. Derek had sounded confused when he accepted the invitation and showed up with a cautious, wary expression on his face, but he'd relaxed instantly when he saw Stiles. He could smell the obvious nerves and embarrassment but no anxiety or fear. Nervous and embarrassed was one of Stiles's most common states of being. Smiling in relief, the older werewolf didn't hesitate in plopping down next to Stiles on the couch.

"Hey, uh," Stiles started very, very softly. "Remember how Kira thought we were together?"

"Yes," Derek's voice was even, but his eyebrows raised in obvious surprise. His eyebrows were so expressive, and it was one of the many, many things that Stiles had come to love about him.

"What would you say if I wanted to be together for real?" Stiles asked, looking away, his heart beating a mile a minute. Derek's started beating faster too, but that could really be for any number of reasons. "And I said I know these feelings aren't gratitude for you helping me these last few months? That I know for sure that why I want to be with you is because I really, really like you?"

"I'd say I believe you," Derek answered, voice hitching a little. "And we'd have to tell your father, because I really, really like you too."

"Yeah?" Stiles asked, looking up as a wide, disbelieving grin broke about across his face. Derek nodded. "Yeah, let's tell my dad." Derek returned the smile and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Stiles's lips.

When the sheriff came home, he found Stiles and Derek curled up on the couch watching a movie, and they didn't have to say anything. He knew, and he smiled. Then, he grimaced and said, "You've both already been through so much that I feel like I'd have to warn both of you against hurting each other. Just, please, don't do anything that would make me arrest you."

"Sure, Dad," Stiles said, giving his father a shit-eating grin.

The sheriff was so surprised that he'd started to laugh. It was the first time in six months he'd seen his son looking so like himself. Finally, finally, Joe knew that everything was going to be okay.

A/N: Hello and welcome to the end of Fault of the Deceiver. I hope you enjoyed it.

I love reviewers, but I do have a request. I would really love for someone to seriously critique my work. It doesn't have to stop at constructive criticism. I'd love for someone to really pick apart my work and tell me every little thing they hated, what needs to be improved, and what parts of my writing they liked best. Believe me when I say I love all reviews, and it's really nice to know people appreciate my work. However, I'm a far cry from being perfect, and there's always room to improve. Also, if I can get better, I can give better fan fiction to my readers. Anyway, thanks again for reading this fan fiction and hopefully you seriously considered my request.


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